I'm diabetic, my sweet
by Anomandris
Summary: She was sweet. To desire her was deadly. Yet, would he reach out for that which was forbidden? (P.S. This is just me being mysterious) AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** **:** **I do not own man or any of the characters.**

 **CHAPTER 1**

He ate and ate and ate. Neither the biggest bowl of rice nor the largest bucket of chicken wings could deter his stomach from growling for one more serving. And when it seemed that the monster had been finally sated, nary an hour passed afore it took up its keening moan for food once more. Restaurant cooks quailed and restaurant owners rejoiced at his passing. But yet, the boy never grew. He stayed as slim as a supermodel, befuddling all those who met him and his voracious appetite. His seemingly frail frame devoured amounts that even seasoned masters of the plate grew nauseous just thinking about. You would think that all that energy would power him into the next year, but somehow, he was always tired. Where all those wonderful calories went, nobody knew. But at any time of the day, one could find him dozing in some corner, his white locks hiding his face. The people who saw him thus tiptoed away very quietly, for his angelic little face just brought out the mother in everybody.  
He ate exceeding well and in the time he was not asleep, he worked well. But always hanging over his head, or neck rather, like a scythe, was the fact that he would not live long. At least not as long as the others would. But as far as everybody knew, the boy never let it get to him. Allen was diabetic.

Candy was all she had known since she was a baby. She did not know how milk tasted all by its lonesome because all she had given had been chocolate milk. She had her toast with strawberry flavoured butter. At any given time of the day she could be found with a lolly in her mouth, rolling from side to side, as her petite little head thought up more and more candy. She spent half her waking hours in brushing her teeth and the other half in devouring prodigious amounts of candy. Bestowed with a genetic tolerance for candy by dint of coming from a long line of candy makers, she licked, sucked, chewed and swallowed gigantic amounts of glucose that would have made any normal person keel over and die of a motley group of metabolic disorders.

Given her lineage, one would expect her to push candy to everyone she met with all the vigor of a drug peddler whose next fix depends on it, but rather, she was extraordinarily possessive when it came to her candy. She left all the candy peddling business to her Father, the proud father of the biggest candy store in the city and the biggest candy consumer in the city. She once described seeing candy pass out of her hands as akin to having a part of her soul ripped off. Candy was Road. Road was Candy. Incidentally, Road was also Road Camelot, scion of the Camelot Candy Corporation.

It was a fine Halloween night and Road was out trick-or-treating dressed as a witch, her third costume of the night. Her previous two rounds had been made as a giant bunny and as a pink bandaged mummy. This year's haul had been good, she thought, as she made her way to a hither to unvisited house. Every one of her trick-or-treat runs had yielded sweet results, which were currently stuffed in many pouches beneath her witch's robe, making her seem like a plump little witch indeed. 16 year olds normally did not trick-or-treat with the fervor she did, or if they did, they were not as successful as Road. She was a short little thing with an elfin face which made people mistake her for being younger than she really was. Not that the little girl had any complaints about her height. As long as it got her candy, it was just fine.

The house, whose door to which she was currently walking up to, had been missed because it had been unoccupied till the month before. As a result, it had not crossed her mind on her first two runs. But just as she was passing it on her third, she noticed a solitary light on a window and it came to her mind that her mother said something about somebody moving in recently. "More the houses, more the candy" being her solemn motto, she made her way to this dwelling. It was an unremarkable little place, a little bit on the bleak side, with a few scraggly bushes growing on the front lawn. But all this barely perturbed Road as she made her way to the front door, her cloak struggling to sway with the wind, weighed down as it was with candy. Once she had gained the door, she stopped, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

***  
Trying to get into the Halloween mood had not done Allen much good. The diabetic candy at the drug store had been too much for his starved wallet and he had settled on some nice pumpkin seeds ('Baked and salted, Halloween limited edition pumpkin seeds' it had said) instead. He had considered buying a turnip to carve into a jack o' lantern, for he was partial towards them, but found pumpkins more affordable. And besides, there was that pumpkin carving contest in the neighborhood, offering a grand prize of a hundred bucks, which would come in handy in case he couldn't find any work the next week. Being a pianist for hire hadn't turned out to be a great career option for the white haired lad.

Sitting in his room beneath the single spluttering lamp, he laid the tip of his carving knife to the juicy pumpkin he had hollowed out. Juicy, attested to by the pumpkin juice residing in his rumbling belly. When times were good, perhaps the monster could be sated, but oft times, Allen had learned to go on, teetering on the edge of hypoglycemia. Such was now,the effects of nothing but jug of pumpkin juice and some pumpkin flesh for the whole day starting to wear off, yet, his hand held steady despite the glucose, or lack thereof in his bloodstream. He fought back the writhing of his stomach, the lightness in his head, as he brought to focus the image of Son Goku hidden within the pumpkin before him. The flames that would burn inside would make a super saiyan of what he would carve. The judge for the morrow's competition was a hard core fan of DBZ, albeit, in secret. Or so Allen had gleaned from the kids next door by dint of a few cents. Small price to pay for the rewards to be reaped.

Music is an art. That being said, a musician is in essence an artist. Whether this ran true in Allen or not shall be left a matter of debate, but what is undeniable is poverty makes artists of us all. Allen fell to his art with a passion unexceeded by Michaelangelo. Or he almost did. At the very second that his knife would have started to birth a Goku-o-lantern, the door bell which did not work nearly as often as Allen would have liked birthed a jittering jingle of compressions and rarefactions. Allen gave a start, his knife gave more than that and the pumpkin gave like...well,a pumpkin. It split down the middle with an equality which would have impressed Martin Luther King.

Allen stared, dismayed, at the wreckage wrought by the bell. His hopes chased out by despair, he slumped in his chair in a sudden show of weakness. Another pumpkin was an impossibility if he needed to pay his rent and keep his sorry backside from being kicked out onto the curb. The bell, though, is an impartial soul which acknowledges not the act of wallowing in despair and as such, it rang its ominous little chime once more. Desperately trying to seize an anger which he never could possess and failing miserably, Allen rose to his feet, swaying slightly. Cursing his luck, he made his wobbly way to the front door, his head throbbing uncomfortably. His palms sweating, he grasped the doorknob in a slippery grip and turned. Thenceforth, our starved diabetic fell headfirst out the door and then all was darkness.

***  
Road waited with the patience that is born of long experience. For two seconds. Then she rang the doorbell again. This time, she heard somebody making their way to the door. The doorknob turned and a white headed bundle fell right on top of her, squashing the plump witch, candy and all. Road squeaked in indignance and shoved it off her with the strength that desperation lends to a mother protecting her cubs.

Too late, Road discovered as she reached inside her cloak and brought out handfuls of candy. Warmed by the heat of her body and pressed by the weight of whatever had fallen on her, they were a squashed looking bunch indeed. Broken lollies, crushed lemon drops, ruptured M & Ms. Oh, the tragedy. Her eyes screaming vengeance, she turned to look at whatever had clobbered her so. And a half formed snarl died in her throat.

An angel, she thought at first. But on a second glance, it proved to be a boy, age indeterminate, possibly out cold. On closer examination, a none too healthy boy, for his face looked rather pale. Millenia of maternity reared its head in Road's breast and warred for dominance with an ugly desire to do unspeakable things to this fiend who had perpetrated certain destruction on her candy. Perhaps the Gods looked down favorably on Allen on that Halloween night, for his hand came up to clutch his head, his body curled in on itself and a pitiable moan escaped his lips. Maternity grabbed the sight and in her capable hands she made it a weapon. A weapon to strike down her opponent, screaming into whatever pits of Road's mind it had crawled out from.

Road sighed, and shoving her candy back into their hiding places, she grabbed the boy under his arms and heaved. She huffed and puffed as she dragged him back into his own house. Once she had deposited the heap within its own lair, she drew in a deep breath and sent out a "Hulloooo! Anybody there?" which echoed around through the empty rooms and hulloed right back at her. She waited a moment in vain and when nobody came to her summons, she turned to examine the fallen creature.

It was a boy, no doubt. A tad bit on the effeminate side, but a boy nonetheless. The object of her scrutiny moaned once more and it occurred to her that to splash some water on his face before further inspection would be a good idea. She hurried to what appeared to pass for a kitchen in this house and grabbing a lone jug, she filled it with water from the sink. As she did, she noticed a rather dark stain on the wooden floor and then a dim memory came back to her, something her uncle said. But she pushed it away for now and walked back to the fallen lad.

He was still moaning when she vindictively swung the jug at him and let him have it. The water, that is. It hit him full in the face with a splash, splattering her a little in the process. The boy jerked and came to in a fit of sputters and coughs, much like a rusty old engine. Then, when he had recovered enough to look around, his eyes came to rest on Road. There was a momentary silence, in which his eyes widened, and then, like a hunted mouse, he backpedaled, or more accurately, back crawled to a corner and screamed "Don't eat me!"

***  
Allen's head throbbed as he gaped in horror at the plump little witch. He couldn't remember where he was, nor what day it was. But what he was fairly sure of, was he was going to be eaten. Flayed, salted and roasted over a slow fire like those two little kids who got caught by the witch in the gingerbread house, like in story his Guardian Cross' story told him. Eaten with an apple stuffed in his mouth. Eaten like a...Eaten...Eaten...the word aroused something in him and his stomach growled painfully.

Eaten...Eaten...he hadn't eaten in quite a while. Pumpkin juice was hardly sustenance for a whole day for someone like him. Because he was diabetic. But that was all he had, because he was broke. And he wanted to carve a pumpkin. To earn some money at the Halloween… "Oh!" he said as he looked anew at the witch. "Oh!" she most certainly did not say, as she threw the remnants of a jug of water at him with an indignant "You ain't edible!" It splashed him once more and the cold water cleared away whatever fog had clouded his mind.

***  
Now that she had splashed the ungrateful wretch twice, he was thoroughly soaked. But a cold wind blew in through the open front door, and as the boy shivered, she couldn't help feeling a tiny bit sorry for him. Then, he tried to get up, but wobbled and would have fell over and cracked himself on the noggin, had she not moved to catch him. "I'm sorry!" he said "I'm so sorry!" his big eyes looking up at her as if they were about to burst into tears. And she felt a whole lot sorry herself.

"It's okay", she said, as she dragged him to the couch, the only piece of furniture in the living room aside from a cuckoo clock ,which seemed like it were about to keel over and die, on the far wall, and plopped him up on it. "I'm..." he began once more, before his hand went up to clutch his head, an involuntary groan escaping him. His hand fumbled in his pocket and came out with a piece of candy, shaking like a leaf. At the exact moment, a cold breeze chose to once more blow through the open door which she had neglected to close and his hand went from shaking to flapping and the candy flew, hit the wall and dropped into a dustbin at the corner of the room. "No" he moaned, involuntarily reaching out.

"Easy, easy" she said, pushing him back. She didn't think she could handle any more hauling. "Need...something..." he shuddered out through shivering lips, his eyes closed, right palm pressed to his forehead. Road looked towards the dustbin, then back at the boy and set her mouth. She took off her cloak revealing a plain purple dress with full sleeves underneath. Laying the cloak out on the floor, she reached into one of the several pouches sewn onto its inside and drew out some candy. "Say 'Ahhh...'" she crooned and began feeding him some, little by little. It broke her heart to see her candy disappear like this, but all the same, for some reason, it tugged at her heartstrings even more to see the boy in such a state.

After she had exhausted a quarter of her supply, she stopped and laid him down on the couch. As she did, a fresh gust of wind blew through the still neglected door. It was almost as if it was begging to be closed. And frankly it was getting on Road's nerves. After a quick look at the boy to make sure he wasn't going to roll over and die, she went to the door and finally closed it. Coming back, she found him curled into a ball, his steady rhythmic breathing advertising that he had fallen asleep. Or passed out. Who knew? She gently shook him, but to no avail.

Road's eye fell on the empty jug by the wall and she briefly considered splashing him again, but she bravely resisted and instead turned her thoughts to drier pastures. As he unconsciously shivered once more, it occurred to her that his clothes were soaked through and through, courtesy of yours truly. If she left him like this, she'd probably find him dead in the morning of hypothermia. Or if he was lucky, down with a bad case of pneumonia. And seeing as there seemed to be nobody to take care of him and seeing that he seemed to be so pathetically inept at taking care of his health, he'd probably die anyway. But she couldn't just strip random strangers down to their underwear in their homes, could she? And the cuckoo clock struck ten and cuckoo-ed.

"Hell fire and damnation!" she cursed. Well, she had no choice. "It's a matter of life and death" she kept saying to herself, as she reached over and first ,swept his hair back from his forehead, she laid the back of her palm to it to see if he were running a fever already. And just stood there looking at him.

His face had mostly been obscured by his curiously coloured white hair, wet and plastered to his skin. What she had thought to be just a clump of hair, differently coloured from the rest in the mess, proved to be a thin, long scar beginning in a star shaped patch and running from above the middle of his left eyebrow, through it, missing his eyelids, jagging a bit laterally below the lower one and finally ending in a wicked line which went to just above his jawline. Unconsciously, her finger traced the line of the scar and his face twitched and caught her off guard. She quickly withdrew her hand, feeling flustered.

She tore her eyes away from his scar, wondering how he had gotten it, and set to work on his shirt. Funny that he should be wearing a full sleeved, button up shirt indoors. He even had the cuffs buttoned up and two white gloves on like a proper little gent. 'Perhaps he had been planning to go out somewhere' she thought, as she started to undo the buttons, then stopped and moved to take off his gloves first. She pulled off his right one and then as she pulled off the left, she took an involuntary step back and dropped the glove.

"What..." she began and trailed off. Slowly, she undid his shirt and with a little bit of maneuvering, she got it off him with him still sleeping like a fairy tale princess. "Oh my..." Words had temporarily deserted her as she took in the ruin that was his left hand. His pale skin ran smooth over the slim lines of his body and just an inch or so below his left shoulder, on his arm, it changed abruptly. Like the boy whose carnival costume had been sewn from many coloured pieces of cloth, the skin from thereon seemed to be a patch work of several patches of variously coloured skin; some patches seemed various shades of red, others mottled, and in between, there were patches and criss cross lines of darkened scars.

"Oh!" she exclaimed once more, a lump rising in her throat, as the boy unconsciously drew his arms to his chest in a primal move of preservation. His left arm, she noted, moved stiffly and less than his other arm. Like this he seemed so vulnerable, it made her want to hug him and whisper to him that it would be alright. But she snapped out of it and quickly worked him out of his pants. To her eternal relief he had boxers on underneath. She searched all over the house for something to cover him up with, but couldn't find a blanket. In fact, she couldn't find any furniture except for an old fridge in the kitchen and a desk with a lamp, a split pumpkin and a chair in the room next to the hall. This room lead to a smaller one which held a grand old piano. Other than that, it seemed as plain as a new born babe's heart.

She opened the kitchen's back door which lead to a little patch of land a couple of metres wide. It had a clothesline which held a set of clothes similar to what she had gotten him out of, and finally, a blanket, albeit dripping wet. It seemed only recently washed. Sighing, she closed the door and went back to the living room. As she scratched her head, her eyes fell on her discarded cloak. Well, it was that or body heat, and frankly, it didn't seem like too tough a decision.

She grabbed it and draped it over him, making sure to tuck him in real tight. Then she headed over to his desk and rummaging in one of the drawers, she got hold of a piece of paper and a pen, on which she wrote in a rather beautiful hand, "Return cloak to the Ark, Millennium Avenue. P.S. It has a giant lolly over the gate." This, she placed on the desk and she put one of the halves of the pumpkin on its corner as a paperweight. Then, she took his drenched clothes, draped it on the chair and just as she was about to leave, she stood in the doorway and cast a last glance at the strange, scarred, sleeping boy on the couch, curled up beneath her cloak with all it's candy. "Trick or Treat" she whispered and closed the door behind her.

 _A/N : The representation of the disease in this story is fictitious and not meant to hurt anybody. The author advises calling for help if you find somebody unconscious, not feeding them candy and stripping them naked. However cute they may be._

 _P.S. Read and review. Hopefully I'll keep at this fic._


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Allen awoke, feeling pleasantly warm. Yawning softly, he turned onto his side and pulled the blanket tighter around him. As he did, its edge rode above his ankles, leaving his feet cold. Frowning, he curled his body up, snuggling into the warmth of the velvety inside of...'Velvety inside?' Some part of Allen's brain told him in a quiet voice that his blanket was, at best, not coarse. So how come he was rolled up in velvety warmth? "Because it's not yours", the same part of his mind reasoned.

At this point, it must be noted that Allen really wanted to jump to his feet in a show of surprise. But the warmth robbed the act of its intensity and he ended up lazily rolling off the couch and onto the floor. Once there, he reluctantly squirmed his way out of the blanket that was not his and sat up holding it in his hands. By the Gods, it was really soft! So soft that Allen hugged it to his cheek for a moment and rocked back and forth. Mmmmm...

The rational part of Allen's brain, having abandoned telling him things in quiet voices, started screaming. 'Something's wrong, you bird-brained, sorry, miserable excuse for a ...' Before his mind could complete its tirade and push up the rating to an M, Allen jumped to his feet and held up the blanket at an arm's length. No. It wasn't a blanket. More like a cloak of some sort. A deep purple- so much so that in dim lighting, people might suspect it to be black. Its inside was lined with rich velvet of a lighter hue, its texture begging his hands to run themselves over it and revel in the feel. The slender, frilled collar hinted at a feminine ownership.

But all that did not explain how he had ended up sleeping in... and then he noted he was buck naked. Almost buck naked. He turned around, looking around the room, trying to find some plausible reason. Noting nothing out of place, he moved towards his study, thinking very hard about what had happened last night. His face scrunched up in concentration as his mind began its retrospective journey. At 5'o clock in the evening, he had eaten what remained of the pumpkin flesh he had deprived his pumpkin of. Then, for an hour, he had dusted his piano, the only heirloom from his guardian Cross...well, the only one which made him smile and tried composing a new tune. Then, remembering that his blanket was badly in need of a wash, he had gathered it up and sauntered over to the local Laundromat only to find it closed...why had it been closed? Anyway, in a moment of quick thinking, he had decided to wash it himself and borrowing a bit of detergent from the kind old lady next door, he had set about his task. He washed, rinsed and wrestled the dirt out of blanket in the tub in the bathroom, following which he hung it up to dry. Wringing it by himself had seemed too strenuous a task. By then, it had been past 9'o clock. Then he had stretched himself out on the couch to rest his tired limbs. After half an hour, he had sat down to carve up that pumpkin for the contest, feeling extremely hungry.

Ah! The pumpkin! The contest! Yesterday had been Halloween! That would explain the Laundromat too! Then Allen reached his study and his eyes fell on his table. Oh...The pumpkin...The contest. The contest had been at midnight yesterday. Not that it mattered. On the table before him lay his pumpkin, its career as a piece of art cut short by a wobbly hand with a wicked knife. It came back to him then. The door-bell had rung and he had ended up...no...he didn't want to think about that. 'Too painful' he thought and grimaced. It was then that he noticed the letter beneath one of the halves of the pumpkin.

He tugged at it and it came away, thankfully un-smeared. Draping the cloak on his shoulder, he held up the paper. In it was written, in an elegant cursive, "Return cloak to the Ark, Millennium Avenue. P.S. It has a giant lolly over the gate." "What," Allen asked himself in a low voice, "in Heaven's name happened after I killed that pumpkin?"

Enigmatic note in one hand and equally enigmatic cloak in the other, Allen returned to the couch and sat down heavily. Something crinkled and Allen turned his head around trying to determine its source. He shifted his backside ever so slightly and was rewarded with another crinkle. Moving with the remarkable precision of one who has spent long nights catching rats in a long-deserted house, his hand shot between the cushions of the couch and snagged a piece of plastic. As he extricated it, he noticed that it was a candy wrapper.

"Huh!" he thought, "How did this get here?" As he crossed the room to the dustbin, he couldn't help but think that candy was somehow a vital piece of what had happened yesterday. But how? Reaching the graveyard of all things un-needed, he crumpled the wrapper in his hand and looked down. The bin was filled with candy wrappers.

His ears heard the crinkling of the wrapper in his hand. His eyes took in the wealth of wrappers in the bin. Something stirred in Allen's mind. A fuzzy memory, indistinct, as if through frosted glass, came unbidden. A burning fire in his belly. A stabbing pain in his head. A wetness that soaked him to his bones. But through this all, he heard a soft, gentle voice, encouraging him to eat, consoling him, whispering meaningless nothings...and then it all came back to him. The fall into darkness. The witch...no, the girl. The Girl.

Allen felt a blush rise unbidden to his cheeks. The cloak must be her's. The one who'd soaked him, fed him, stripped him and saved him. And just as fast, it drained from its perch on his cheeks as a singular detail forced its way into his mind. _Stripped him. She had stripped him._ Unbidden, his eyes fell on his left arm. The ruination of his left arm.

Unpleasant memories threatened to surface. A vulturine, vindictive face. Accusations in an ice-cold voice. The raging fire of a fanatic priest. Then blissful darkness. Allen shook himself out of that place with a visible effort. His breathing was labored as he drew a hand down his pale face and staggered back to the couch. Landing heavily, he buried his face in his arms and slowly, ever so slowly reined in his racing heart. He straightened with an effort and hands clenching so hard it hurt, he whispered to himself "Keep walking" and rose in one fluid motion.

Now was not the time for wallowing in the past. Nor did he want to speculate on what the unknown girl of Halloween felt about his freak show of a limb. He did not think he had the courage to. The jumble of his memories seemed to paint the girl in a good light and he wanted to hang on to that while he could. Time would tell. For now, he would get this cloak back to its rightful owner.

The curiously named residence, 'The Ark', was no less intriguing in its build. A private road, lined on both sides by huge banyans, three on each side, led to an enormous arched gate. The trees on either side of the road seemed intent on reaching out to embrace their contra-lateral brethren with their lush foliage, thus imparting to the causeway the appearance of a tunnel and effectively hiding the top of the arch from prying eyes. A couple of metres after the impromptu tunnel ended, one was confronted with what, Allen had to admit, was done in rather bad taste.

The arch curved to a height of thirty feet at its apex. It was a structure that bespoke power, a power of certainty, a certain immovability that reached out to Allen from its weathered stones. Clashing most sickeningly with the massive grandeur of the arch, at its very apex sprouted something that was meant to be a lollipop. A lollipop in the shape of an impish, garish visage. Adding to the effects was its colour scheme. Or lack thereof. The artist seemed to have not settled on how to flavour the lolly, so the end result was something that was frighteningly Frankenstein-ish. It was, all in all, the most unsavoury lolly Allen had ever laid eyes on.

A gate guard sauntered up to Allen, stuffing a magazine into his shirt. Coming to a halt in front of him, he looked the boy up and down through thick spectacles and drawled "So, what brings you here, young'un?" Fighting a sudden urge to scowl, Allen handed the note to the guard. "I've come to return this cloak," he said, pointing to the wrapped bundle underneath his left arm.

The guard looked at the note and then back at Allen. Then, he slowly removed his spectacles and let out a deep breath. "You didn't..." he trailed off, advancing a step. "Didn't what?" Allen asked, backing away. "Cyril's going to kill you!" the guard screamed. "Who's Cyril?!" Allen screamed back, getting alarmed. "She's only sixteen!" the guard howled, clutching at his hair. "I'm only eighteen!" howled back Allen.

That seemed to stagger him for a moment. "Eh, what?" he asked. "That's what I'm asking you!" said Allen.

"Spill the beans, damn you! Or...didn't you do that already?"

"Beans? The only thing involved was pumpkins!"

"Do you even know what a pumpkin is?"

"It's big, round and juicy"

The guard howled again. In answering cacophony, A couple of dogs from somewhere in the manor grounds howled. Confusion overwhelming him, Allen howled. "Will you people please stop the infernal howling?" howled someone from inside. "Oh damn!" muttered the guard as an old man, his back straight and his gait strong, walked out from a little side gate and glared at the guard. He was mostly naked, except for a pair of boxers.

"You could have just asked." he said, his eyes shooting daggers at the guard, "Whatever it is that you keep lacing my food with, I think I'm growing tolerant to it." Then, he turned on Allen and asked, "What do you want, young man?" Eyeing, who Allen now suspected wasn't a guard at all, he said, "I've come to return this cloak. The owner saved me from certain death yesterday and I'd like to thank her."

Looking at him, Mikk asked, "Were you that starved?" "As a matter of fact," Allen replied "Yes. I'm diabetic and was hypoglycemic." "Oh..." said Mikk, something dawning behind his pupils. "And who are you?" Allen asked, eager to turn away the topic of conversation before sympathy could bloom like a smelly Rafflesia on the man's face. Allen didn't want it and it probably would've looked terrible on said visage.

"That, boy, is Mikk. The proprietor of "The Purple Butterfly" and brother to the owner of the Kamelot Candy Corp. The cloak belongs to the young miss, I believe. Now if you'll follow me, I'll announce you."

Road threw the book down in despair after a series of cacophonous howls sounded from somewhere. She had tried to drown her sorrows in a good story, but yesterday's candy, now forever lost, was stuck like a pernicious thorn in her thoughts. Maybe, she should not have wasted so much on a complete stranger. She could've just let him starve and nobody would have been any the wiser. She could've just let him starve...if he hadn't looked like a damned helpless puppy!

That frail air that had seemed to hang over him like a palpable cloak. The way he had drawn up like a foetus and whimpered. That scarred arm and face. Even thinking about those brought back a goodly amount of the feelings that had coursed through her the night before. Road scowled. Compassion was a welcome virtue, but not when it made her wallow in sorrow.

Thinking back on the previous night, it had been Greed that had brought about her downfall. She had been bulging with the goodness of goodies, but still, she had chosen to grab more. Yes, Greed was the cause. But did it mean that Greed was something to be avoided? Of course not! What was greed if not another name for ambition? And where would the world be if not for ambition? And where would that poor boy be if not for her boundless ambition? Her vision without horizons? And where was that boy now?

As if in answer to her silent query, a knock sounded at the door of her study. "Come in!" she called out. The door moved and in popped the head of Igor, the butler. "A visitor for you, young miss" he rasped, "He's got a note and a cloak." Road thought for a moment and said, "Show him to one of the tables in the garden. I'll be along shortly."

***  
Allen watched as the door opened and the butler stepped out. "Follow me" he rasped and then set off without so much as a second glance. Allen fell in behind the man and they both moved around the house and came to a garden filled with all manner of flowers. There were roses, lilies, hibiscuses, lotuses in a little pool, flowers which looked like drooping bells and more. There were a few trees scattered here and there. Straight ahead, there was a sprawling gulmohar beneath which sat a serene stone table with a few chairs about.

"Make yourself comfortable" rasped Igor, waving a hand at the table and moving away. Allen sat down and watched as the butler disappeared around a corner of the manor. He looked around and settled the bundle on the table. Birds chirped and Allen felt quite distant from yesterday's trauma and tomorrow's troubles. Finding himself with nothing to do, he brought out the note and looked at it. 'An elegant hand', he decided and then quite suddenly, a breeze tugged it away from his lazy grip and sent it floating past him. He shifted back in the chair and made a grab for it, missed horribly, messed up his balance too and as the chair rocked back to fall in a decidedly ignoble fashion, he jumped up, tripped and fell headlong into somebody coming up behind him and they both went "Oof!"

 _*Let us kindly make note of Allen and Road falling all over each other._


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Road glared with all the hatred she could muster as the boy hastily lifted himself up and backed away, muttering "Sorry! Sorry!" _Well_ , she reflected from down on the ground, _At least it wasn't me doing the heavy lifting this time_. He stared at her for a couple of seconds before blushing an impossible shade of red and helping her off the floor. Once firmly ensconced on two feet, she dusted herself and returned to glaring.

He was doing a wonderful imitation of a deer under the headlamps and it didn't seem like he had it in him to say anything, so Road began, "I take it you make a habit of crushing people under you all the time?" "I'm really sorry! It was an accident! I didn't mean to..." and there it was again! That damned look! Like an abandoned puppy! One more time and she would strangle him. One more time. But this once, she supposed she could let it pass.

"It's okay." she said, waving a hand in a dismissive gesture as she occupied a hitherto unoccupied chair. Seeing as he still remained standing, she pointed at one of the chairs and said, "Sit" which he did rather quickly. *Alright, she thought, *Perhaps that came out a little harsh.

***  
Allen sat, as the little lady demanded. She was a lady as her imperious gestures demanded and she was little because, well, if anyone could get crushed under him, there was no other better adjective to describe them. Although Allen often wondered if his touchiness about his height was a result of some of his taller aquaintances giving him the wrong impression about himself. And thoughts are electricity, electricity is electrons and electrons are fast as is evidenced by the fact that all these waltzed through Allen's brain in the time he metaphorically waltzed his cheeks into an intimate relationship with a chair.

Having buttressed his behind with wood, he stared steadily at her and gulped. She stared back but did not gulp. Fighting his left hand's impulses to go into training exercises whenever he got nervous, he took a deep breath and began "I don't remember much of what happened yesterday, but what little I do tells me you saved my life. Thank you. I'm Allen Walker, by the way."

***  
Road stared as the boy completed his formal thanks. A voice smooth as velvet. Just a bit formal, but overall, soothing. A singer's voice, perhaps? She would have gone on staring with what she hoped was an expression that bordered on a borderline stern, but for his uncomfortable expression that showed he expected some sort of response at this point. She searched her mind for words to string into sentences, but it took too long, so she decided to let instinct take over "You're welcome. I fed you all my candy. My Halloween candy. Road Kamelot, by the way." So much for instinct.

He seemed a bit taken aback by that. "I'm really sorry," he said "I..." and he trailed off, seeming unsure of what to say. "I worked so hard for it. I actually made three runs in three different costumes. I changed my voice each time. It's gone now." _Shut up instinct_. "I...I..." he seemed to be struggling with something, but something on her face, instinct, that traitorous bitch, probably, seemed to change his mind and he set his shoulders and boldly declared "I'll treat you to some candy if it's okay with you!"

***  
In days of old, knights would make impossible last stands for dear Princesses to go AWOL on enemy hordes. In shonen Manga, loyal friend-zoned fellows would stay behind to give the protagonists time to escape from immensely powerful evil guys with silly names. In both cases, Chivalry got the head of the person concerned mounted on a spike or body cut into bloody little pieces, respectively. Ergo, chivalry was a bastion of masochists. Which led Allen to question his…tendencies.

Allen was a diabetic who was considering starving himself to pay his rent. And now he had, in essence, given up what was considered one of the four essentials for human life in exchange for buying a girl candy. True, she was on the better side of the cuteness scale and she had given him a look of such loss that Batman would have probably felt that he had not mourned his parents enough. But was it just cause for this madness? Masochism? Mayhaps.

Then, she had also saved his life and the old codes of honour would dictate that he go down on one knee and declare in dulcet tones "Milady, my life is yours to do as you please!" or something to that effect. And the house had been unoccupied for a long, long time before he moved into it. So there was a slim possibility that the owner might not throw him out for getting in his rent a little late, being loath to do so to his first tenant in a few years. Or, if luck favoured him, perhaps she would just turn down his offer. After all, she had just met him yesterday under awkward circumstances and she seemed to be rich enough to get all the candy she wanted at the swish of a pretty finger.

Allen glanced back at Road to see a smile of utter bliss bloom on her face. _Oh well_.

***  
Road just couldn't keep the smile off her face. And why should she? She had saved a life, losing her candy in the process. And now, this bundle of cuteness had come up with this wonderful proposition to restock her supplies! It was almost as if she had made an investment! Invest her candy in saving his life, now her returns included candy and more! 'Well' she thought to herself, mentally patting herself on the back, 'Business runs in my veins, after all!'

She returned her attention to Allen to find his left hand moving fingers in a frenzy. Ah. That. A flash of yesterday's memory of seeing him curled up sobered her a bit and stopped her from doing a little jig. Her eyes moved up to find him staring steadily at her. Suddenly, without warning, she felt her face grow warm with the beginnings of a traitorous blush. What was going on here?! Fighting the urge to suddenly look away, she nodded and said in a tiny voice "That'd be nice"

* * *

"Did you see that?"

"See what?" asked Tyki.

"She blushed! I'm sure! One hundred percent positive!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed that because I'm not the one spying on his daughter, in his own house, WITH DAMNED BINOCULARS!"

"Igor!" called the man looking up from his binoculars, fixing a monocle over his left eye.

"Yes, Mawster!" rasped a voice from near the door.

Tyki followed his brother with his eyes as he moved to the couch "Flip the switch" he muttered to Igor.

"I can't help it. It's one of the things that helps me keep this job entertaining" answered a deep voice, quite unlike the rasp that had come a few seconds ago as Igor, his brown hair greying at the temples, stepped forward.

"Follow them" ordered Cyril from the couch, his chin resting on his knuckles.

"Oh for Heaven's sake..." began Tyki, but was cut short by an upraised hand.

"My carelessness nearly destroyed my girl the last time," said Cyril in a voice devoid of emotion, his eyes fixed on the floor "I won't make that mistake again."

Tyki stared at his brother with unfathomable eyes before grabbing a nondescript jacket and a pair of glasses off a table and turning away. "I understand," he said, "Keep Igor here. I'll go"

A/N: Sorry that this chapter was a little short. Will try to update more frequently, say, once in two weeks or so. Also...Does anybody feel that Hoshino is going to kill off Road and leave us people rooting for Rollen crying in the dark? Or even worse, hook Allen up with Lenalee? Leave a message.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N : Sorry for the long wait. Was a bit preoccupied. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner. I really will.

CHAPTER 4

The world had many things to say about accepting candy from strangers, but it said nothing about letting strangers buy you candy. Now, if that had been a matter of importance, then surely some Grey beard must have had something to say, something big on brevity and big on metaphors, something like a quote passed on from parents to the posterity. But seeing as Road Kamelot had not stumbled upon any such Words of Wisdom, not,at any rate, in her fairly extensive voyages through the sea of books that existed in the manor's library and beyond, she did not find herself having regrets at accepting a nearly complete stranger's invitation to do so for her. Of course, there was the matter of circumstance to consider. In those stories of old, where terrible crimes of an unspeakable nature where committed via candy, the proprietor usually did not owe the debt of life to the victim and thus has no motive to offer said instrument of wrongdoing, hiding said deficit under a deceiving veil of generosity. And let us not overlook the stranger himself. Poor yardstick appearance may be, but it is of some value to observe that the person of consideration would look more at home in the shoes, or fig leaves of Adam before the advent of the Fruit than in those (shoes, not fig leaves) of the conventional evil doer.

Convinced of the plausibility of her act, thrice over, she gave Allen a huge smile, by way of courtesy. To her eternal delight, he turned a deep shade of crimson before doing a quick sequence in the air with his hands, following which he, after a couple of false starts, asked her in most dulcet tones "When would you like to go?" Road willed her mind to work. The smile still stuck. "Er…" he seemed to be waiting for a reply. Oh wait...he was waiting for a reply. She tried again, but failed miserably. Her smile grew bigger. Oh dear. She was stoned on happiness.

***  
Allen watched chagrined as her smile grew bigger. And bigger. What had he done wrong? Had he made a fool of himself? And not yet realized how? Did that make him a bigger fool than now? Did it mean his making a fool of himself was growing worse? He mentally hung his head in shame as another part of his brain worked furiously to deduce what the deuce had gone wrong as yet another part of his brain, very well oiled, sent rapid bursts of electricity to his hands making them play 'The Peanut Butter Etude' in the air as yet another part of his brain overrode the well oiled part and succeeded in making him grasp his hands with minimal spasmodic twitching.

Of due course, many more parts of his brain would have jumped into the fray and thrown everything tumbling into chaos, but fortunately Road's face chose that moment to stop smiling. Even more unfortunately Allen's mind tumbled into chaos anyway. 'What have I done wrong?' he asked himself. But history need not necessarily repeat itself as evidenced by Road blurting out "That'd be great! How about now?"

Allen's mind watched chagrined as his mouth answered "Of course. Now is fine."

***  
Road was having a hard time containing herself. Ask any self-respecting marijuana addict if the novelty fades with time and he will puff out his chest (and probably some smoke) and declare in an offended tone "Of course not, good sir!", if he were sober enough. And so, Road Kamelot, scion of the Kamelot Candy Corp, squealed. A little.

"Oh, bollocks!" she thought as she reined herself in. Before the situation could spiral down into even deeper depths than this ship was already floundering in, she managed to squeak out "Wait for me at the gate! I'll be back!" before taking off. Yes, it helps if the dealer is cute.

***  
Allen stood watching Road making her way back to the house at a stately pace, thinking how nice it looked through the screen of falling red leaves of the gulmohar. What he did not and could not watch was her breaking into a rather ungainly run after she had turned the corner of the house. But let us return to our hero and concern ourselves with the figure creeping up behind him.

"Follow me" rasped a voice near Allen's ear, startling him and a couple of sparrows which were twitting about his head. He turned to behold Igor, clutching...was that a candlestick? Why Igor would go about holding an unlit candle in broad daylight was a mystery, but Allen decided to deal with it another time as he finally realized that what he was getting himself into would be something...like a date.

As this revelation struck Allen, he blushed, inadvertently of course, while looking at Igor. This startled the startler and he nearly dropped his candlestick. "Er..uh.." stuttered Igor, nearly dropping his rasp, but regaining control just in time to rasp, not nearly as horrid as before, "Follow me" before turning sharply and leading the way to the gate.

***  
Road rushed upstairs, not noticing her uncle Tyki standing in the shadows in a nondescript jacket, a pair of faded, greasy jeans and worn sneakers sporting thick, huge spectacles that obscured his face. She also did not notice said relative when rushing back down in a pretty little dress toting an equally pretty little bag, both with frills. Tyki for his part stood still, watching her as Road scurried about. A good five minutes after she'd exited through the front door, Tyki stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled to the front door. Just as he was about to get it open, it eased open and in slipped Igor. Shooting a look at Tyki, he said "Seems like they're going to the candy store run by Miss Miranda on Rewind Street. Oh, and he blushed at me." Tyki, who was passing Igor by, turned at this and regarded the butler with a steady look. "Don't flatter yourself" he said shortly and sauntered out.

Road rushed out the front door and down the walkway to the front gate, slowing down as she neared it, attaining what was a stately walk with the slightest spring as she came in view of it. As she walked up to the the gate, she could see Allen engaged in conversation with the gate guard who Tyki drugged on a regular basis while Igor kept shooting glances at Allen every 10 seconds or so. Noticing her from the corner of his eye, Allen turned and waved. Road waved back and let a little more spring into her step. Boy, was he cute!

Coming to a stop near the two of them, she gave a sweet little "Good Morning" to Leek, who she'd known ever since she was a little kid and who'd taken her on runs around the manor on his shoulders when she was smaller and he was younger. "Good Morning, Miss" he replied, doffing his cap, "I was just telling this young man here about some of the candy stores in town, seeing as he's new here and all." "He was a great help" chimed in Allen "but is there any particular place you had in mind?" "Eh, nope. None at all. Just not any of my Dad's." "Oh. Okay then. How about..." and Allen seemed wrestling with some really tough choices as his face scrunched up. "The place over at Rewind Street? The owner Miranda is a friend of mine. It's a little place, but she's got all sorts of things over there and I don't think you've gone there yet, young Miss. 'Kontrina Candies' it's named. Bright little board. You can't miss it" said Leek, coming to the rescue. Allen stopped making that cute little expression, much to Road's dismay and turned to her with a questioning arch of his eyebrows. Road nodded and smiled. And, oh Jesus, son of God, he did one of those winning blushes he seemed to have a large stock of and looked away. So engrossed was she that she did not see Igor slip away.

***  
Cyril looked up from his copy of 'Candy - an Update' as a set of rhythmic knocks sounded on the door. "Come in...Igor" The door swung open and in walked the afore-mentioned manservant with a "Yes, Mawster!" Cyril sighed and said "You could have plastic surgery, you know. We could make you look the part." "That's very generous of you, sir, but I like my face just fine, thank you" replied Igor, with a slight smile.

"Well?" asked his master, raising an eyebrow. "The boy. He blushed at me." Cyril adjusted his glasses and whistled "So...he swings that way?" he asked Igor with a hopeful smile. "That's what I thought too. But then he blushed at the young miss. And I think he blushed at Leek too. So either he swings both ways, or he's one of those rare people left who still go around blushing at everything. And it makes him look like an adorable little angel. The Young Miss was looking at him with rather starry eyes."

"That all?" asked Cyril with a glare. "Oh, that and they're going to 'Kontrina Candies'..." "The place on Rewind street?" interrupted Cyril. "The same, sir. I ran into Tyki on my way here and I passed it onto him." "Good. Quaint little place, that shop, but it's got lots of stuff. Road should love it. And the strange woman who runs it...I do believe Tyki has a...thing for her. He'll welcome the opportunity to be in the neighborhood. Well, that's that. Now, Igor, I believe the dogs are up for their yearly rabies boosters. Just drop Bisuan a reminder, would you? Oh, and flip that switch on your way out."

***  
After a painstaking journey, involving a rather treacherous shortcut, which involved a lot of parkour, Tyki managed to board the bus that the pair had taken. In this time, he had picked up a few smears on his already worn jacket and had garnered, all in all, a rather shabby, disreputable look. Not that he had looked different before. Not that he minded, as long as it kept Allen and Road from noticing him. Not that there was any immediate danger of that. They were both happily blushing at nothing and they kept stealing glances at each other.

Once they'd arrived at their stop, it was s short walk to the shop and he didn't have much trouble shadowing them as it was a busy little place. He tailed them right up to the door of Kontrina Candies and left them at that, sauntering up to a newsstand and buying a copy of 'Wages' and ensconcing himself on a conveniently placed bench under a tree, began leafing through it.

***  
Road had been uncharacteristically nervous throughout the bus ride. Uncharacteristically. Every time she looked at him he blushed and looked away. Every time he blushed, she blushed. And then, she saw that he stole a glance in her direction and blushed when she caught his eye. Rinse. Repeat. And so went the journey.

They got down at their stop, her cheeks feeling abused by all the blushing they'd done. Allen had asked an elderly woman the way to the shop and had been rewarded with not only the directions, but a pat on the head and advice to 'Eat like young'uns ought to and stop looking so pale' He really brought out the mother in everyone.

Kontrina Candies was, on the outside, non-specific. There was nothing which might endear it to the eye, nothing which might make it stand out in the mire of memories. The building was dull and standard, the board was garish but stereotypical and the door was non-descript. But Leek said that it would be good and Road had some faith in the old man's judgment. So she grabbed an uncertain seeming Allen and dragged him inside. Once in, she dropped his hand as she felt her face heating up once again. 'Oh Gods above, not again' she thought, looking down as she desperately fought it down. And then she looked up.

***  
Allen, for one, had never been all that much acquainted with candy stores. He had some vague memories from his earlier years, before...the incident, but that was about all. So he looked around taking it all in. Desperately trying to force his mind away from the fact that Road had just held his hand. If only momentarily. If only to drag him into the shop.

There were shelves and shelves full of containers of every imaginable shape and size filled with candy. The walls were painted with supposedly children friendly cartoons. Here and there, decorative festoons hung from the ceiling. All in all, a riot of colours tore into Allen's brain and screamed at it to have a seizure. But it was all dwarfed by an enormous Grandfather clock in the middle of the room. Reaching higher than any of the shelves, almost up to the ceiling itself, it was a majestic old thing which began chiming as the clock struck twelve with a "Gong! Gong! Gong!" just as our flustered couple came through the door.

A couple of steps beyond the door, a dark haired woman was sitting behind the counter. She had glasses low on the bridge of her nose and seemed to be fiddling with a watch. Allen looked around and spotted the bell that must have rung when the door opened, had not the rope connecting it to the door frayed away. He reached up and gave it a little shake, producing a nice "Tring-a-ring-a-ring!"

The woman jumped. Her hands jerked. The watch flew. Pieces of the watch flew. It was chaos on a very small scale as the woman flailed about. Finally, she managed to establish order to her turmoil and collected all the scattered pieces of the time-piece. She was about to begin work on it again when her mind registered that the bell had just rung and she turned to them with a flustered smile. Or more accurately turned to Allen with a flustered smile. Road, he noticed, had already made her way to one of the shelves and was looking at the wares rather intently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was a bit...preoccupied" the lady apologized, her raven curls dancing about as she bobbed her head. "Oh, that's okay!" said Allen holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "No, I'm really sorry!" the lady insisted. "It's really okay!" he replied. "You don't understand!" she begged, nearly in tears "I'm really really sorry!" "It's really really okay!" Allen insisted bobbing his head up and down, very nearly close to tears himself.

"Ahem!" interrupted a voice, breaking into their growing hysteria. Both of them turned to see Road, her arms straining under the weight of all the candy she carried. 'By the Gods, she's fast' thought Allen. And then, the full significance of the full volume of the candy the girl was holding struck him. "Oh Gods above..." he muttered.

***  
Tommy came to a halt in front of the shop. "Kontrina Candies" he read aloud. "You sure this is the place, Henry?" he asked turning to his associate. "Damn fucking sure, Tommy. You can trust me on this one." he replied. "Alright boys," Tommy said, "let's get this job done. Henry, you're with me. We're in the alley on this side. Nicky, you're on the other side. Whichever way he goes, grab him and pull him in. We'll rough him up a bit, but no stabbing, no shooting. You get me?"

"Sure, Tommy. But what about the girl?" asked Henry.

"Just makes our job easier, doesn't she Nicky?" asked Tommy, his mouth widening in a grin.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

A/N : Sorry for the long wait. And the short chapter. But hey, ce'st la vie!

Every note he peeled off his last reserves sapped at Allen's reservoir of self control and he found himself very close to begging the girl to reconsider. But the look on her euphoric face as she cuddled all the assorted candy and chocolates she had painstakingly picked out roused Allen's chivalry and sent his common sense packing. Besides, Road Kamelot was rather cute.

Still, Allen found himself mentally ticking off things as he counted out the money. "The rent...the new pair of pants...tomorrow's dinner...the.." and all of a sudden, a shudder came into his hand as something struck his mind, but the next instant it steadied itself and nearly all of Allen's money went into the depths of Miranda's cash register. "Thank you! And come again!" said the proprietress, excitedly bobbing her head, her eyes already moving to her timepiece.

Allen forced a smile on his face, nodded and turned to Road. Extending his hand, he said "Here. Let me carry that for you." indicating the huge bags of goodies she had ensconced in her arms.

***  
Road was in Heaven. Or so she felt. The bags of candy felt comfortably heavy in her arms. She inhaled taking the scent of fresh wrappers into her nostrils, a lazy smile etching itself on her face. Then she turned to behold Allen stretching his hand towards her. Towards her bags, to be more specific. "Here. Let me carry that for you."

Her first impulse was to clutch them even tighter to her bosom like a mother does her children. But then she looked at his face, so earnest, and a change slowly came over Road's mind. She was hesitant to part with her babies, even if it was only temporarily, but on second thought, perhaps she could entrust one of the bags to him. That would leave one of her hands free. And maybe, just maybe, she could find an opportunity to hold his hand again. Road Kamelot liked to be prepared for every eventuality.

***  
Allen noticed that Road noticeably tightened her arms around her bags in response to his invitation, a look of suspicion creasing her features. Then, as if something had clicked in her head, he saw a smile slowly lighting up her face as she chirped "Thank you!" and handed him one. He was in no state to consider this in any detail, so he just mentally shrugged and shouldered the bag.

"Let's go!" she said turning to the door, her arm sort of limply hanging by her side. For a brief, irrational moment, Allen wondered if she wanted him to take it, but he dismissed the idea as ridiculous and made his way to the door which he proceeded to hold open for Road. He noticed that she had a slightly disappointed expression on her face. Not enough candy, perhaps? No matter. Allen was nearly broke. The bus fare would take care of what remained.

Once outside, he rather gallantly declared, "I'll drop you off at your place." and she lit up like a firework on the fourth of July. "Oh, that's be nice!" she exclaimed and extended her hand. "Oh no! I'll carry it! It's no big deal at all!" replied Allen with a smile. As he turned, he missed the look of exasperation that flitted across her features.

***  
Road silently fumed. She was not a very patient person and in her view, she had done everything short of light signal flares and still her companion seemed blissfully unaware of her intentions. As Auric Goldfinger put it "Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Third time is enemy action." So rather than risk the possibility that his density was enemy action, she decided she was going to make a grab for his hand.

She'd have to time it perfectly. A covert step and she was close enough. As his arm swept back in its swing as all arms are wont to do in the act of walking, she had her palm open to trap his. And then suddenly it jerked away from her. Feeling hurt by this seeming rejection, she lifted her gaze from her quarry to his face and was horrified to see a huge bear of a man holding Allen in a sleeper hold. Then with one quick heave, the man dragged a shocked Allen into a narrow, shadowy alley. Road, leaping like a cat, got a hold of Allen and found herself heaved along with him as if she were nothing more than a rag doll.

***  
Allen barely had time to react as a burly arm caught his neck in a vice like hold and hauled him away. To his horror, Road had grabbed onto him and was being taken along for the ride. Then, someone grunted, and he found himself flying through the air towards a gray wall, Road in tow. Almost instinctively, he twisted his body so when he hit the girl was cushioned by himself. The impact knocked all the breath out of his body and he slid to the floor like a bag of flour.

He opened his eyes with an effort and found Road lying by him, looking dazed but mostly unharmed. As he forced himself to his feet, he heard a whistle which was quickly accompanied by the sound of running feet and he looked up to behold two undoubtedly evil looking men entering the alley to join the gorilla who he surmised had grabbed him.

"I got him Tommy." said the gorilla to the nastier of the two men, a cruel piece of work with a evil smile on his face that made Allen feel queasy. "Let's get it over with and get the hell out of here!" said the other one, his eyes darting this way and that. "Calm down, Henry old boy" Tommy said, not taking his eyes off Allen, "Ain't nobody gonna mess with us." Allen turned around to check on Road, his mouth opening to ask her if she was okay when he was suddenly lifted up in the air by a gnarled hand and slammed solidly into the wall.

"Grab the girl, Nicky" ordered Tommy's level voice as Allen's eyes struggled to focus on his assailant's face. "No!" he tried to cry out, but it turned into a choked cry as he was slammed against the wall once again. His back felt like one big blot of pain, but her gritted his teeth and hissed "Let her go!" as he saw from the corner of his eyes the gorilla, who he assumed must be Nicky, advance on Road.

"Oh, how cute!" exclaimed Tommy with a cold smile that never reached his eyes as his grip tightened on Allen's neck. "Look here, runt. You're Cross' little brat aren't you? I know you are. Now you seem like a smart kid. I'm sure you can count. He looks like he can, doesn't he Henry?" the man asked conversationally. "Yup. Sure, Tommy" replied Henry, licking his lips and looking around. "Well now, kid," Tommy continued, his voice a low menacing growl "Since you can, you ought to know you're a couple of days behind on the payment" casually punching Allen in the gut.

Through the haze of pain, one part of his mind heard Road cry out in pain. He turned to see Nicky's hauling Road up by her arm. "Let her go" he rasped out. Tommy did not seem to have heard. He just pressed Allen against the wall harder and continued, in that same off hand manner,"Sad, how you have to pay off all of that old man's debts, but hey, I didn't make the rules! But do you know what I can make? I can make your little friend over there scream if you don't cough up the dough."

"Let her GO!" Allen raged legs kicking out, squirming desperately in the older man's grip. "It's never fun if they don't have a little fire!" exclaimed Tommy gleefully, banging Allen's head against the wall.

Road stared in horror as the one they called Tommy pummeled Allen. "Stop!" she cried, wincing a bit as Nicky's fingers bit into her arm. Tommy just turned to her and stretched his lips in a mirthless grin. Allen, taking advantage of the man's momentary distraction, drew up his legs to kick him, but Tommy, without even looking, dealt him a solid blow to his chest which left Allen gasping. "Do I tell them to mess her up?" he mused to himself. "Don't you dare!" Allen roared struggling even harder. "Oh wait! I've got a better idea!" he exclaimed reaching into his pocket and coming up with a lighter. "How about a little fire?" he asked, lighting it up in front of Allen's face.

It was like the mother goose system had suddenly come online. Road watched as Allen, who until then had been raging at them to let her go (which she found rather chivalrous), suddenly went limp as a rag doll. As Tommy shoved the lighter closer to him, he winced and drew back, his eyes holding nothing but a primordial fear, his face pasty white. His breath came in ragged gasps as Tommy slowly moved the flame to and fro in front of his eyes. Then the man's eyes fell to Allen's gloved left hand and a vicious smile lit up his face. "Oooh! Firewood!" he chortled with glee as he moved it little by little to the boy's hand. "NO!" Allen screamed, his voice laced with a terror so vast Road involuntarily shrunk back.

And then out of nowhere a magazine came flying through the air to knock it out of Tommy's hand. It was a copy of 'Wages'. "What the ..." he snarled and turned, just in time to have Henry come flying through the air and crash into him with a resounding thud. Nicky dropped Road and whirled to see a tramp with a cigarette held negligently between his lips. With a roar he rushed towards him arms swinging but the newcomer just ducked and suddenly straightened, and Nicky's head whipped back as he was headbutted in the chin and he went down like a sack of onions.

Tommy, meanwhile, had pushed an unconscious Henry off him and was reaching inside his jacket but the tramp was on him in an instant, a slim knife suddenly in his hands, pressing against the ruffian's neck. "Now, now" the tramp said in a voice surprisingly like Tyki's, "Let's be civil, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Well my peeps, sorry for the long wait. But you can probably expect regular updates from now on. For real this time.**

Nicky was down. Probably unconscious. Henry lay near him like a rag doll. He wasn't going to be any help too. The knife was perilously close to Tommy's carotid and a little pressure would mean he was history. The situation did not look good. "Fuck" said Tommy quietly, his eyes speaking volumes of murder as he looked at the newcomer. He was a nondescript looking fellow, with unruly hair and glasses and threadbare clothes. But the ease with which he had taken out Nicky and the speed with which he had sprung upon Tommy spoke of a rather dangerous man beneath.

"No matter" thought Tommy, "Nobody in his right mind messes with Pauly". He looked the man in the face and opened his mouth. The knife pressed harder. "I don't remember asking you to talk" the tramp said, a smirk on his face. This man was really starting to piss Tommy off. Once this matter was settled, he'd make sure to teach him a lesson. But that could come later.

"Woah, whoa, whoa there!" he said, ignoring the knife, "You don't know who you're messing with here, wise guy." "Oh. Well, enlighten me." replied the tramp, the smirk never leaving his face. Tommy decided he would smash that cocky face in when he had the leisure. "We're ..." he began. Tommy never finished as the knife dug in deeper causing him to hiss in pain and fear. "Let me guess" said the tramp, relaxing the pressure a little bit, "You're Tommy. Pauly's crazy little dog. I don't know who that brute is. And the other one..."

The tramp suddenly grabbed Tommy's arm which was still inside his jacket and, twisting it towards Tommy, pressed the knife steadily against his neck. "Thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he asked, his face serious now. "Go on," he said, "Pull the trigger now". "Look bud, I'm sorry, okay..." began Tommy, but was stopped by the tramp who twisted his arm further. "Pull the fucking trigger," he repeated, a maniacal grin spreading on his face, "Or I slit your throat." "You sonuva..." hissed Tommy through clenched teeth, then abruptly broke off in a choked cry as his shoulder gave a pop and his arm went slack. The tramp pulled the hand out of the jacket and shook free the gun which fell to the ground with a clatter.

"That's better!" he exclaimed, the affable smirk returning to his face. "Now where was I? Oh yes! The other one's your chum Henry! Did I get everything right?" "Who...?" Tommy rasped out between gasps. He reached into a pocket, fished out a playing card and held it before Tommy's eyes. The man, who was already pale and sweaty from his dislocated shoulder, blanched even more and instinctively moved back. "You're..." he said, looking up at the tramp with new-found horror in his eyes, but couldn't bring himself to finish. He swallowed loudly and tried again. "You're..." "Shhh!" said the tramp, bringing a finger to his lips and finally taking away the knife. Tommy scrambled back from him.

The tramp picked up the gun and pocketed it. "Now," he began, in a silky voice, "You're going to run back to Pauly and tell him that these kids are mine. If I find him so much as looking in their direction again, tell him I'll pay him a visit." "But...but... the boy owes him money!" protested Tommy weakly. The other man just flicked the card at Tommy. "Show him this. And we'll see if he still wants the money."

* * *

Road watched incredulously as the man who seemed to be her uncle, yet not, turned and started walking away. After a couple of steps, he stopped and glancing over his shoulder asked, "Coming?" She shook herself out of her trance and scurried over to where Allen lay, still somewhat pale and shaky. Grabbing him by his shoulders, she shook him gently, not trusting her voice to come out just yet.

His eyes, somewhat unfocused, came to rest on her face and for the first time since the guy called Tommy held a flame to his face, he seemed to come to his senses. And his face paled even further. And then reddened. "I'm sorry. So sorry..." he murmured, hanging his head as his voice trailed off. Before he could say anything else, Road put a finger on his lips and said "Let's save anything else for after we get out of here. Okay?" He nodded, looking like the most miserable creature in the world, and came to his feet with a grimace.

"Are you alright?" she asked reaching out with her hand, just in case he fell. "I'm okay." he said, waving her assistance away, "Let's go."

* * *

Every step felt like moving a goddamn mountain. He just wanted to crawl into some dark, deep hole where no one could find him and die. She had been pretty nice to him, treated him like a normal person, which was so much all by itself considering she had seen his mutilated excuse for an arm. But all he had done so far was put her in danger and then, instead of trying to save her, he had acted like a spineless coward.

Shame burned.  
But...  
Not as much as fire.

* * *

Everything seemed surreal as she followed the stranger to the bus stop. She threw a glance back at Allen. She couldn't see his eyes with the way his head hung down, but his mouth seemed to be set in a grimace and there was a tension in him that tainted the air all around. But he could wait. Must wait. What was more important was this familiar stranger leading the way. Something must be done.

"Stop!" Road commanded. Or tried to. It came out as a squeak. The man slowly came to a halt and turned around. "What?" he asked and there it was, that familiar voice! It sounded exactly like her uncle. And now, that she had a proper chance to observe his face, beneath the glasses that obscured most of it and all that dirt, he looked...

"Tyki!" she screamed, throwing herself at him and felt a pair of strong arms come around her. And suddenly, she felt her eyes fill up and she buried her face in his dingy jacket as she shook with sobs.

* * *

Allen watched as the man, apparently Tyki Mikk, drew a sobbing Road aside and held her protectively. Each tremor passing through those shoulders felt like a thousand spikes digging into his heart. If Allen thought he had fucked up to perfection today, guess what, you can always get better.

He stood there unsure as to what he could possibly do at this point as Road emptied her tears on Tyki's jacket, all the while whimpering that she'd been so very scared. When the tide seemed like it had finally stemmed, she lifted her face, took a deep breath, swallowed once, then again and, in a rather hoarse voice, said, "Well, that helped."

Not ready to say anything to her just then, he went and got a bottle of water and a few tissues from a nearby vendor and handed them over to her. "Thanks", she said, her eyes red and puffy as she blew her nose and then gulped down some water.

A thought struck Allen and he made his way back to the alley in which they'd been attacked. The three goons were gone, but the candy bags were still lying where they'd fallen when they'd been hauled in, looking relatively undamaged. He picked them up, dusted them and turned around to see Road and Tyki behind him. "You shouldn't just go off like that, you know. It could be dangerous," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said, holding the bags out to her, "for everything. I guess I'll be going now, seeing as your uncle's here. Sorry, again." not yet trusting himself to meet her eyes. He did not want to see the contempt and the anger which were sure to be written large in there. Some solace for the coward, if you will.

"Wait!" she said, grabbing a hold of his arm, making him look at her eyes for the first time since the goons turned him into a whimpering mess. And saw concern.

* * *

Something was seriously off about Allen. First there was the matter of him and those goons. What exactly was Allen's connection to them anyway" The men had said something about money and judging from his stuff, or lack thereof at his home the other day, he didn't seem all that well off, so it was possible that he might've borrowed some money from some bad people. Second, what was with him going from knight mode to quivering jelly mode in well under a second when that lighter was shoved in his face? What exactly had happened to him to give him such a phobia of fire?

But she was sure she could find the answer to those questions in time. Right now, getting the boy home seemed a better idea. He looked like someone had just hung his favourite puppy at his doorstep. And she wasn't sure about sending him home all by his lonesome. Despite the enigma of Tyki seeming to scare the living daylights out of those villains back there, she wasn't sure that somebody wouldn't try to jump him like they did before. And with no Tyki to save him, who knew what they'd do?

"Wait!" she cried, grabbing his arm. He finally looked into her eyes and Road revised her previous statement. He looked like somebody had shot ALL his puppies and hung them by their entrails. And vultures were feeding on them. Nope. Sending him alone wasn't a good idea.

"You can't just go home by yourself!" she protested, "You're hurt and what'll you do if somebody jumps you again? We'll come with you."

His face, an epitome of incredulity, looked like it was about to protest, but she shushed him. "Please? I'll worry if I don't."

Still looking sort of mystified, he nodded his assent.

"Okay! Let's go!" she cried, tugging his arm.

 **Sorry if this chapter doesn't move the plot forward much. The next one hopefully will. As always, read and review. Your comments and ideas are greatly appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

The ride home was a lesson in awkward silence. Tyki sat between Allen and Road, his eyes vacant, his mind obviously elsewhere. He could be excused for now though. As a reward for the rescue, if nothing else. Road appeared deep in thought but kept stealing glances at Allen every now and then. Allen, for his part, stared straight ahead, his face giving away nothing of what might be going on beneath the surface. All three of them, or Road anyway, felt that the silence was oppressive and, once or twice, it seemed that she might shatter it. But whatever words that might have passed those lips never came into being and she returned to her thoughts.

They got down at Allen's stop and made their way to his home. At the door, Allen turned and said, with a rather fixed smile on his face, "Thank you for your kindness, but I really shouldn't take up more of your time..." "Oh, we have all the time in the world, boy!" Tyki announced, seeming at last to come back to Earth "And I have a few questions for you if you wouldn't mind."

Once inside, Tyki took a look around at the spartan furnishings and settled himself comfortably on the lone sofa, which bravely beat back the emptiness of the room with its worn cushions. Taking out a cigarette from one of his pockets, he held it between his lips and chewed thoughtfully. He had given up smoking on his niece's insistence but liked to hold one in his mouth anyway. It helped complete his dashing image, he believed. Once the appendicular stick of tobacco was safely ensconced, he turned to the boy and asked: "So, what's your trouble with Pauly?" No beating around the bush for Tyki. No sir.

The boy, Allen, fidgeted with his collar, eyes darting at Road. "Oh, don't worry about her! She's my niece and I strongly advocate youth learning the ways of the world, boy. Now, spill." That didn't seem to reassure him, but with one last look of resignation at Road, who didn't seem to be going anywhere, he began his story. It was rather short.

"My guardian owes him a...rather large sum. Ever since he disappeared, it has fallen on me to repay it."

"Oh!" Road exclaimed, "That's terrible!"

Tyki had been following them around for quite some time and he had noticed the looks the fair sex directed at Allen. It was not comprehensible to his manly mind why nearly all of them, except the ones near the boy's own age, even a couple of them too, looked at him with the eyes of a mother cow. Like Road was doing now. It was like the whole world wanted to mother him.

"How large?" asked Tyki, with curiosity unfeigned. "If he set his top dog on you, I presume it must be quite something." Allen glanced at Road, moved closer to Tyki and whispered something in his ear. The older man's eyes grew wide. "That's impossible!" he exclaimed in a ragged voice.

Allen just shrugged.

"Pauly doesn't let his debts grow that big, boy." Tyki insisted, his voice leaking his disbelief. "Maybe usually," Allen replied with a shrug "But my guardian was a rather unusual man. People did not mess with him."

"And what, may I ask, was this wonderful man's name?"

" Cross"

Allen watched as Tyki's face turned conspicuously blank at the mention of Cross. 'Oh no,' he thought, "Don't tell me that prick owes him something too."

Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case as Tyki scratched his head and said: "Can't say I know him."

Oh sweet Mother of God! At least something went his way today.

* * *

From the other end of the room, Road cleared her throat. All eyes turned her way. Well, two pairs to be exact.  
"Well Tyki," she asked, "What do we do about it?"

"Huh?" went both males.

"Why do I have to do anything about it?" asked Tyki, his voice sulky.

"Why? WHY?" Road screamed, her indignation taking her voice a few octaves and a lot of decibels higher "Because I say so, that's why! I mean, look at him! He looks like a fly could have a good chance of hurting him! Can you imagine what sort of perfidy those goons will orchestrate on him if they get their grubby paws on him again? They'll turn him into Jack the Ripper's wet dream! And take a look at these surroundings," she said, gesticulating at the rest of the room, "His living is more spartan than Leonidas. And he was starving when I found him yesterday! I'm pretty sure he's gonna starve today too. He probably spent his last penny buying me, your dear niece, candy! We're gonna help him because it's human! And besides, he treated me to candy and was nice to me!"

***  
Allen stared at Road all through her eloquent tirade. Oh, of course, his economic and combat capabilities were being spoken of in rather unpleasant terms, but on the whole, it sounded like another human, and one he had known for less than 24 hours, cared so much about him. It restored his dwindling faith in humanity. But should he take advantage of that? Wouldn't it be wrong to do so?

"Thank you for your concern, Miss Road, but..."

"Oh shut it! You need help and you know it. And you're getting it whether you like it or not!"

***  
Road glared at Allen, willing him to contradict her. Puppies were all and nice. Until they take a poop on your shoes. Then you have to strangle them a bit to teach them manners.

Fortunately for him, he gave her his patented deer-in-the-headlights look and shut up. And Tyki opened his big fat mouth. Yup. That helped too.

"That's un.."

Road turned her glare, turned all the way up to 11 and promising murder on him.

"..expected, but not unreasonable. Let's see what we can do. Or more precisely let's see what you can do. What can you do, boy?"

"I play the piano," replied Allen.

"And..."

"... umm... I play... the piano?"

Tyki sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Are you a regular anywhere?"

"Not yet, but I'm pretty sure..."

"So, no?" Tyki cut him off.

Tyki gave him a look that conveyed contempt as efficiently as street food conveyed typhoid. Road, for her part, just gave him big, motherly eyes.

"Okay. You're a pianist. Unemployed. With no other skills to speak of. Is that about it?", asked Tyki. Allen nodded.

"You got a piano in here?"  
More nods.

"Let's see you play."

***  
Tyki stared at Allen. If his ears had vaginas, they would be orgasming right now.

"Okay. You're a really good pianist."

"Oh, you flatter me!" Allen replied, blushing.

***  
If Road's eyes had vaginas, they would be orgasming right now. For a male, Allen was a surprisingly good blusher. And had a singing voice that was ambrosia on the ears. And skillful fingers. On the piano, of course.

She turned to Tyki. "Well?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"He's good, isn't he?"

"Yes", he replied grudgingly.

"So...?"

Turning to Allen he said, "Are you open to playing at my establishment ?"

You would think somebody had offered to bring back Marilyn Monroe from the dead. As his personal sex slave. The look on his face could have lit up the dark side of the moon and still have voltage to spare. "OH, OF COURSE! THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!", he practically screamed at Tyki. Who found it very annoying. Road disagreed.

And all was well and good. Well, nearly.

As Allen and Tyki were fleshing out the details of his employment at Tyki's establishment, "The Purple Butterfly", which mostly seemed to consist of the older male saying stuff and Allen nodding his head like a puppy eager to please its master, Road reflected on some of the stuff that she'd observed.

Firstly, Allen had said 'My guardian, Cross'. That probably meant his parents had abandoned him and he was adopted or his parents were dead and he was adopted. Both of which were somewhat sad. More the sorrow to cloak his life in.

Secondly, his weird behavior when they were being roughed up by the goons. He was all let-her-go-you-bastards knightish until they struck the lighter. The rapidity with which he went jellyfish was astounding and merited further investigation.

Thirdly, the arm. It was probably a memento of good times and most probably would not be all that significant. But it had aroused in her a certain morbid curiosity.

Lastly, looking at him made her feel really good. Like fuzzy and woozy inside. That was going to be problematic.  
***


End file.
